It scares me to speak my mindIt might sound self-absorbedI don't say half of what I thinkI wonder what I'm thinkin' forI'm smelling dead flowersListening to the walls againI'm drinking from a leaky faucetAnd writing with this dried up penWish I still had my imaginary friendAnd who needs to listen, wellWhat do I have to sellEveryone's just waitin' for their own turnKind of like show and tell

[Chorus]Someone to listenSomeone to laughSomeone to cry at the right times